Paradox
by Hellsing-Heiress
Summary: One-shot. Deisaku. Apart they were a mess; together they were a disaster, but a beautiful disaster at that.


Title: Paradox

Anime/ Manga: Naruto

Couple: Deidara and Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Word count: 1788

Genre: Romance/ Humour

Copy write: I do not own Naruto or the character's Sakura Haruno and Deidara, all those rights belong to the respectful creator; Masashi Kishimoto.

Paradox

He stared outward; gazing into the hollow hole that was his residence. The dim hallways of conflicting memories surrounded his troubled form. As the emotional pressing of flesh on flesh collected with his mind, the overly sweet sounds of her mewling lips resounded into his safely guarded bank of a mind.

The screwed face of the blond showed no sign of his disruptive thinking. He was controlling his inner pain well, his eyes were hard to the floor now, his lips firmly shut and his body tensed. He was ready for her.

He could already see it so clearly in his mind, the tear, swollen eyes of emerald glaring at him with disgruntled judgement and anger. He knew she would be angry, perhaps that was even an understate, he knew she was going to be beyond reason when they saw one another again, her fearsome strength, however was no comparison to his own inner wall of restraint.

This is what had to be done, this was right.

The uncomplicated sentence rolled over several times, in the young male's head. Unfortunately, however many times he had repeated the phrase, he had not once felt any easiness in it. It felt the complete opposite of what he wanted to hear. It was an oxymoron.

Yet, wallowing in self pity and confusion, Deidara had decided was not going to make the process any more painless. No, the artists had already decided on his course of action for the awkward situation. It would be like creating a clay bomb.

First, compose your clay, softly moulding the fragile material in his rough hands until complete perfection.

Second, find the object he wished to destroy, searching to shatter any connection to that object, destroying all they shared.

Final, detonate the bomb; killing the object, shattering their bond, murdering both their hearts.

Just like that, Deidara proceeded to preach to himself, though clearly his physical reaction to the plan was obviously objective to it all. His lean frame tensed stiffly against his tight training attire, the contours of his pectorals rubbing against his olive skin. His skin began to crawl with the mere imagery of her distress and pain.

She was so damn fragile, so weak, and so defenceless against the attacks of the heart. Like a butterfly dancing in the open range of the endless sky, so small and delicate. Deidara had to stumble over a sadistic laugh, so what did that make him?

Her protective cocoon? Her armour? Her love?

God damn it, the whole scenario was just unbelievably unjustified. Deidara's careful eye's kept close, not wanting to wander too far from the side table's clock; the melodic ticking of fate, tapped more slowly than ever before.

And just how long did it take to have a shower?

She would never change.

The simple sighed remark caught Deidara's attention immediately.

Whether the woman who was currently showering changed, or not, it wouldn't matter. He would never know. Whether she would miss him, if she would eventually forget, marry and have children.

The distasteful possibilities flooded the artists mind.

Another man would kiss her, console her, and even embrace her like he had.

Like a lover would.

He inwardly shook himself off. This was neither the time nor situation for his inner turmoil. He would simply have to wait until he had completed the mission.

Completed her detonation.

"It's free now." Sakura's sniffles called down the dim hallway. He could see her then, clad in a single brown towel that tightened perfectly at every curve of her petite body.

He began his entranced scan of her. His eyes fell upon; her small fingers that were scraping through her wet mesh of hair, untangling them like a rake through weeds. Yet, somehow it still seemed amusingly pretty to him.

What a strange creature she was.

In a fluid motion of colour and splashes of water, she was near him within a small amount of time. The little flows of water still scraping down her face, in petite tear ducks of liquid. Ironically, it seemed that she was already crying.

Though Deidara knew it not to be true, the tears wouldn't be that placid. They would be bloodshot, red hues of puffy skin would curdle around her face, like sore wounds after pouring salt in them. It would be a perfect disaster.

"Listen."

"Hmm?"

She turned then, making her body sees the hallway; away from his gaze.

"I've been thinking about it, a lot actually. You know about us." Her quipped tone was as plain as her mind then, dense trying not to process.

"Oh yeah, and?"

"Do you really need to ask that, you know what I'm saying."

He huffed, his yellow hair shifting with his irritated movements. He moved from his spot behind her, turning them around so he faced her, piercing her space.

She struggled, pushing his chest harshly with most of her strength. She knew she couldn't harm him, but she had no objections of shoving him when he was being difficult. It was a complex theory she had conjured. She could hit him, smack him up the head and perhaps even pull his hair when he was extremely annoying, and yet, she could never find the strength to finish him.

They were a mess.

"Well, either I'm psychic but haven't' realised it yet, or you haven't told me what exactly it is you're saying."

He made no move to touch her; he knew how to keep his composure. Also, he knew in doing so it could end badly either way, she would be stunned or he would lose control.

Both were unacceptable.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What you're thinking, you have to tell me."

"I think we both know what we have to do." she paused, composing herself.

She reached for him then, one hand stretched with her clasping fingers as they grasped his dark shirt, the other hand still protectively clutching the towel close to her body.

It was a defence position.

She was protecting herself, distancing him from her.

"We have to end it."

He closed his eyes then, shutting out her face. Deidara's sighs of uncertainty were the only hint of change. He didn't let her know.

The time in which he was closed off was not measured, he didn't are. It was only a small pit stop before he would take his final step.

He knew this was absurd, wasn't he the one who was going to convince her that they were doing the right thing? They were going back to their old ways, running from what they had created, before it became too hard for even them.

So why on earth was he so stunned at her agreement?

He conjured this in her, forcing her to be the adult. God damn it, she was only 18 years old.

Young, naive, and yet still so bold.

He concluded it, the right thing.

"Well, that is bullshit." He rasped.

"You know, you hide behind your duty but the truth of it is, is that you're scared of anything that doesn't involve it."

She was silent, her shock enveloping her.

"You've never allowed yourself that feeling, that sense of freedom, and so you hide away when you have the opportunity." He continued; his hands griping her arms tightly.

"And you fear anyone who wants to help, anyone who wants to give you that freedom."

She finished it.

"No, I fear the cost of that freedom."

They gazed at each other, perfectly in sync with one another's irises. Both concentrated and stale.

"Well, it's just not good enough." He signed, leaning his head against the side of her neck.

Sakura's turmoil was making her stomach boil with growing discomfort. She was in pain, fighting a lost battle with him.

It was a complete mess.

Then, she felt them. The warm sensation of his lips gently kissing her skin. The area between her neck and shoulder was her most sensitive, yet his gesture was not one of lust.

She breathed into his hair, sighing out her frustration. Whilst he gave her, the artistic menstruations of affection. It was all he had.

"Sakura."

He turned to her, his face tortured in empathy as he saw her face. She was confused at first, wondering why he looked at with such pity that it made her uneasy. And then she felt them.

The warm, sore salted liquid that flooded her face. She denied it at first, trying to believe that the water on her face was not the effect of crying.

It was hopeless.

They came, rushes of water that dripped methodically. They were insatiable.

Deidara saw what he had first expected. A broken woman.

_His_ broken woman.

Though, Deidara had always believed in a sense of equality between the genders, he knew that there were certain times when women needed to be consoled.

This was one of those times.

He cradled her, trapping out everything. His lean arms reaching out and taking her to him, pressing her softer body to his lanky form. Right at that moment, he knew the answer to the problem; it was neither brilliant nor genius. It was simple and stupid.

It fit them both brilliantly.

Lifting her chin, Deidara cupped her face with his hand. The tears of his lover were still spilling freely from her face. He smiled; he couldn't help thinking how sadistically lovely she was.

"We'll make it work."

She stopped. Either, heart or her body she wasn't quite sure, but she knew that she had stopped.

Thinking, crying and breathing.

Her eyes were still with him, staring into them as if they were the Milky Way.

Amazement dancing in her gaze.

It was her who cupped his chin then.

"If this is just about the sex, I'd quit now." Her fierce gaze was hinder by her subtle hue of redness that invaded her face at the word "sex".

Frightful, yet adorable. Only she could be her own contradiction.

"Making love."

"W-What?"

"It's called making love. Not sex." He smirked, his feline like features brimming with masculine satisfaction.

She choked on her own laugh. The bitter remains of her tears were beginning to fade into soft trails where they once laid.

It was all thanks to that cherished smirk that he held; it had the power to turn tears to laughter.

She sighed.

"Alright! B-but, I'm serious this can't just be about lust or getting kicks out of running away, you got it?"

She challenged him, making her point heard. Sakura knew she could never do this without full assurance. Deidara caressed her cheek, his nimble fingers cupping the line of her face carefully, as he pulled her closer.

"_I get you."_

Hello, my fellow Deisaku fan's.

How is everyone? – Good? I'm pleased, hahah!!!

Well, as you have read this was a short idea I had for Deisaku and I think we will be seeing more of these. I have always held a special place inside me for this couple but sadly I have never had the time to write about them, but I finally had an idea so I'm extremely happy about it.

I'm not really sure if it's any good but, I was happy with the small plot.

Basically, the plot was that Sakura and Deidara have been in a secret affair ever since they became tangled with one another. It's a very messy relationship, perhaps like an explosion of emotions. I think this stemmed from all the references Deidara uses.

But, to any event I am going to be creating more about this lovely couple. So I hope everyone who reads my fanfics will like this.

Sayonara!!!


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